


Scared Of The Light

by Krasimer



Series: Don't Take My Sunshine Away [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 76 is reliving what little memories he has so that Reaper knows what he's dealing with, Amnesia, Amnesiac Soldier: 76, Amnesiac!76, And remembers when Jack Morrison was his Sunshine, Angst, Blood and Injury, Half Native Half Mexican McCree, Latino Character, M/M, McCree is Very Tired and Very Annoyed, McCree is rightfully upset, Memory Loss, Reaper is sad, Reaper is upset, Soldier 76 is confused, Spanish Speaking McCree, Surprise I'm Alive, Swearing in Spanish, very little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up felt like death.</p><p>There was dust in the air and blood dripping down his cheeks and he could barely take a breath without scorching his lungs on the intake. Everything around him was burning, even the air. His head felt like it was on fire and he could taste blood on his tongue. </p><p>("What in tha name a' god is wrong with you?"</p><p>"...I don't know," he muttered, watching the slack chain of his cuffs slide off the edge of the table to dangle above his knees.</p><p>Soldier 76's eyes were pinned on him and he couldn't force himself to look back.</p><p>"I don't know.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scared Of The Light

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of blood and injury. Loss of a tooth from an impact damage.

Waking up felt like death.

There was dust in the air and blood dripping down his cheeks and he could barely take a breath without scorching his lungs on the intake. Everything around him was burning, even the air. His head felt like it was on fire and he could taste blood on his tongue. Seconds later he was rolling over, practically gagging as something tried to tumble down his throat. When he spat it out the object turned out to be a tooth.

That explained the blood on his tongue.

His eyes burned, ash and dust seeming to race towards them the instant he sat up. Head on fire, he almost let himself fall back down when his arms tried to buckle underneath his weight. Everything spun past his vision in a blur and he coughed, blood splattering across the ground. 

What had happened here?

There was something, if he tried hard enough he might be able to figure it out...

Off to one side, in the distance, he could hear sirens. Running on instinct, he bolted to his feet, a wordless sound ripping out of him when one of his ankles rolled under itself. Pain ripped up his leg and he gripped his knee, leaning his weight on the other leg. It seemed as if something living was in his chest, urging him away from his position.

A spotlight in the growing darkness made him shrink away, the sound of people coming too close for comfort.

' _Run_ ' his mind seemed to scream at his failing body. ' _Don't look back until you're alone and away'_.

He obeyed, taking off for the cover of the trees he could see, moving as fast as he could. His ankle felt broken, his breath came in short gasps and heaves, and his own blood was wetting his mouth, washing down his throat. The darkness offered by the trees made him relax slightly, allowed him to lean his weight against the rough bark. His entire body ached, but he was alive.

It felt like something was missing, but he was _alive_.

Behind him, he could hear shouts. Voices carried through the air as if looking for someone, the ringing in his ears making it hard to decipher what was being said. An ache in his side made him gasp, the back of his head falling back against the tree. His vision swam and he bit his lip until he felt a fresh spurt of blood, letting go with a pained noise.

The sound of an aircraft, something big and obvious, made him jerk around, reaggravating all of his injuries. 

He had to move. 

He could feel the adrenaline starting to leave him and he had to _move before something found him here_. Every nerve in his body was screaming, telling him to run away from the unknown danger before it could touch him. The small part of his mind still operating on an evolved level was confused, but the hindbrain, the instinct borne of centuries of Fight or Flight, that was what controlled him then.

And he was helpless against listening to it.

He was confused, he was scared, he was hurt. Nothing felt familiar, nothing looked familiar, not a single inch of the landscape around him was known to him. He had no clue as to where he was or how he got there and he was _scared_.

 

xXx

 

"You-" Reaper pinched the bridge of his nose, the cuffs around his wrists rattling as he shook his head. "You fucking _ran_?"

"Affirmative."

Reaper blinked, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at Soldier's face. There was nothing in his eyes, no recognition, no realization. Jack Morrison would have been embarrassed about running away, about being afraid. Even when it was necessary, he'd always been like that. The golden boy was-

Had been.

He had to remember, this wasn't Sol de Oro anymore. This was someone who sort of had his face and had _his_ Jack's-

Not his.

Hadn't been his for a long while, even before the explosion. In front of him was a man with the name, the face, the body and the mannerisms of his Jack, his Sol de Oro, but it wasn't him. Jack Morrison wasn't _dead_ exactly, but it felt to Reaper as if he may as well have been. Blank eyes made his heart hurt just as badly as waking up in Doctor Ziegler's infirmary, half numb and half feeling _too much_ because the Good Doctor hadn't known when to quit. Seeing an empty shell where he once saw a bright light in his life, that was almost worse than waking up from death. 

A cough across the room made him scramble for his mask, inwardly cursing when it wasn't there.

"I do believe you got some explainin' to do," came the voice of Jesse McCree. His eyebrows were drawn down and even though he was smiling Reaper could tell he was furious. His hands were curled tightly around his belt, framing the ridiculous buckle that Amari had gotten him as a gag gift ages ago and it looked like he would be able to reach his gun in seconds if he needed it. "See, I was led to believe that tha both a' the men in this room were dead. I know I attended a couple a' funerals."

"McCree," Reaper started before practically jumping out of his seat as Jesse stormed across the room in seconds, his prosthetic making a ringing noise as it collided with the top of the table. 

Even Soldier 76 looked startled and Reaper had spent the last few hours with him. Having watched his every move, every tic of his face. The man had trouble deciding when to show what emotion. As if there weren't any connection to what was happening, as if he didn't exist as anything more than a blank slate.

It scared him.

Now, however, now Jesse McCree was bearing down on them both, looking at them with his eyes narrowed. Studying Soldier 76's face, he frowned, chewing on the inside of his lip in the absence of his cigar.

"Ah hell," he muttered.

He stood up, his arm moving from the table to reveal the good sized dent he had put into it. He made the same tired motions as Reaper, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he inhaled slowly through his mouth. "I watched coffins get put in tha ground fer the both a' you," he muttered. With a frown, he nudged Reaper over on the bench, grumbling when the older man tried to protest. "You shut it," he scolded. "Tell me what's happening."

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Soldier 76's face was back to being blank and just looking at it sent a shiver down Reaper's spine. 

McCree's eyebrow rose. "How is it that'chu ain't got any idea?"

"I only know some things about Jack Morrison," he said, his garbled voice quieter than before. The sound of it made Jesse wince and Reaper wanted to react with him. "I know...I know he was a good man."

"He was a damn hero," Jesse muttered, taking off his hat and stowing it on his lap. 

A visible snarl pulled at the corner of Soldier 76's mouth. "I'm not a hero," he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't know about my personal involvement with Overwatch, but the body count in that explosion makes me think I was practically useless. If I were a competent Strike Commander, I would have stopped everything before it happened."

There was a trace of Jack Morrison that Reaper remembered. He'd always taken himself to task. If there were a reprimand in his future, he'd already have yelled at himself ten times worse.

What little remained of Gabriel Reyes made his heart clench. 

Jesse beat him to saying anything, however, his frown deepening and his fingers tapping repeatedly on the tabletop, in the middle of the dent he'd made. "You were a damn good Strike Commander, sir."

"...Sir?" 76's head was tilted to one side as he studied McCree's face. "You knew me."

"Course I did!" McCree sounded almost offended, his shoulders squaring as he nodded. "Course I did," he repeated, a touch softer. "Little hard not to, you were my boss fer a bit."

76 looked between the two of them. "Who was closest to Jack Morrison?"

Carajo that hurt. 

Something dug into his chest, making a sorrow filled home as Reaper stared at him. For a moment, his mind went blank, his brain refusing to believe what he was hearing. 

He was an empty space in the man's memories. 

He'd known that he wasn't remembering anything, but he'd thought, somehow, that maybe the vast emptiness had spared the importance factor. That, somehow, Jack Morrison was in there somewhere and had managed to hold onto him.

When the rushing noises in his head finally slowed, he was aware of a gun pointed at his head and Jesse McCree's wide-eyed stare directed at him from eight feet away. "What?" he hissed, a crackle along the edges of his voice. His hands were hurting, a faint edge of pain on the outer reaches of his awareness. Smoke was coming out of his mouth with every breath, tumbling across his lips with every word.

Across from him, the soldier was staring him down, moving as if to block an attack he anticipated coming. 

"Jesus Christ on a cross Gabe, don't do that!" Jesse hollered, lowering his weapon. "Scary enough to see you do it across a battlefield, ain't that enough fer yer Darkness Obsessed psychosis? Mi abuela pidiendo un ángel if she could see you right now!" he tucked his gun back into his holster, shaking his head. "What in tha name a' god is wrong with you?"

"...I don't know," he muttered, watching the slack chain of his cuffs slide off the edge of the table to dangle above his knees.

Soldier 76's eyes were pinned on him and he couldn't force himself to look back.

"I don't know."

**Author's Note:**

> ...So, uh...  
>  Hi again!
> 
> I wanted to continue writing this story. If you'll notice, it's now part of a series called "Don't Take My Sunshine Away" and this is part two. Dear Reaper76 fans: I am one of you and I love each and every one of you. 
> 
> Thank y'all for reading. If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment? If you hated it, please leave a comment. I intend on putting out more chapters either way because I am quickly becoming attached to these guys. 
> 
> Again, I promise, I'm a chubby, round-faced nerd with a weird voice and an almost obsessive writing habit. I'm not going to bite. Talk to me, tell me what you want and what you like.


End file.
